Brothers in Arms
by KingRichRock
Summary: Leopold Fitz is a University student who decided to make more of his life. He joined the USMC, leaving his lovely girlfriend Jemma Simmons behind, who is finishing her doctorate. As Fitz quickly catches the eyes of his superiors, they deem him the needed piece in an elite counter-terror unit, who will work along side Grant Ward, Mack, Trip, and Hunter. Military AU.
1. A Long Way From Home

_Chapter One: A Long Way From Home:_

 _United States Marine Corps Camp Pendleton, San Diego, California._

 _Leopold Fitz:_

* * *

The base was abuzz with new recruits, all of whom had been bussed down from Las Angeles to start their journey with the Corps that very morning. Most of these young men were fresh out of High School, and were in remarkable shape. But then there was Fitz.

He was shorter than the average recruit, but not by much. He was however, very skinny. And he was the only non-American there. He was a 19-year-old Scotsman, who felt a call of duty for the country that had become his home during his engineering doctorate. After the attacks on Manhattan and Washington D.C. that had made 9/11 seem like a joke, Leopold Fitz had enlisted in the Marine Corps to go fight the enemy overseas and protect his new home from attack. But that meant he had to leave the woman he loved, Jemma Simmons, back at the University they had been working together at in the last year of their doctorates.

Fitz had denied being made an officer, instead choosing to enlist to fight on the frontlines. And here he was, one of many, his hair freshly buzzed to nearly bald, with PT gear on and looking to get started on his first week of boot camp.

And god he had never, ever, done anything this hard. he went to bed each night exhausted, barely able to move. He excelled at the memory work that all recruits went through, and ended up memorizing the Marine Corps pamphlet with the basics in it in about 20 minutes, and was the first to pass all of his memory work, being granted reprieve for an afternoon.

By the end of his third week, he was seriously regretting joining the Corps. He was exhausted both physically and mentally. He was gaining muscle, and even a little bulk. But he was still small compared to even just the other men in his squad. But he was the smartest and the fastest learner. He picked up shooting his M4 down the range to hit marksman proficiency in 2 rounds, and had the fastest disassemble, clean, and reassemble time of anyone on the base.

It was by the end of the first month that he got a letter from his girlfriend Jemma, his first correspondence with her in a month. He never had time to write, and he felt guilty about it.

 _Dear Fitz,_

 _I miss you so much. It's been incredibly boring here, and it's so quiet in the apartment without you. I hope you're well, because I know how much doing this means to you. And it just amazes me how much you care for this country after only living here for 5 years. I'm so proud of you Leopold Fitz, and I…_

This was as far into Jemma's letter as he got to read before some of the men in his training group had seized the letter and begun reading it aloud in mocking tones, feigning a cooing sound while hitting Fitz, embarrassing him in front of the rest of his unit. That's when a deafening sound was heard.

"What in the name of Holy Fuck are you shit birds doing?!" was the first words Sergeant Mackenzie blared into the barracks. No one even had the ability to call the room to attention, they were all shocked, and fell into line quickly, including Fitz. _Great, a surprise inspection and here I am in my boxers and a shirt with my bunk a mess from those assholes trouncing on it._

"Nothing Sergeant!" came the units well ingrained response to the Sergeants question.

"This sure as fuck don't seem like nothing. Fitz, Hauc, Johnston, front and center!" boomed his voice, and the three men came forward, in varying stages of undress. They stood at attention as the much larger man that was Sergeant Alphonso Mackenzie eyed them, noticing the fluster on Fitz's face, the crumpled papers in the hands of Hauc and Johnston, and how they had been acting earlier left them a little unsteady.

"Now listen up the three of you. Uniforms, now. I want the letter and all its contents in my hand, _now_!" and Hauc handed them over, and one of the men in the barracks handed the Sergeant the envelope it came in. "Alright pissants, three minutes till we roll out. Go! Meet me outside. You're on the clock! Room Dismissed!" he finished, and the three men scrambled to get dressed.

Fitz pulled on his fatigues as quickly as possible, and then laced up his combat boots, which were shined to perfection. The creases in his uniform were perfect. He always made sure. And he was outside with a minute to spare. Hauc and Johnston were almost late, making it into line with Fitz with seconds to spare.

The four men marched down to the administrative offices on the base, where Fitz was sure they were gonna get tossed on KP duty for the rest of Boot Camp. They made it to the offices, the Sergeant leading the way while his three recruits followed him. He sat the three of them down before entering an office. The three of them didn't dare move their eyes anywhere from straight ahead of them, affixed to the wall in front of them, awaiting their fate.

After the longest five minutes of his life, Sergeant Mackenzie walked back out, calling forward Hauc and Johnston to follow him inside.

For the next maybe twenty minutes, Fitz heard the screams from the CO through the walls, but could not understand what was being said. The Sergeant eventually emerged from the room, calling Fitz forward.

Fitz stood at attention, remembering what they were taught to do before a superior officer.

"Sir! Recruit Leopold Fitz reporting as requested!" he barked out in the familiar manner he was used to, and the Major behind the the desk waved him to the chair, where Fitz took his seat at attention, awaiting disciplinary action.

"At ease, son. This isn't a hunt for your head." he said, more amused than anything. Fitz relaxed his body, staying in a professional manner while the major looked him over. "Alright, let's look at your file, shall we." he said. It wasn't any sort of question. It was a statement and Fitz had no say, so he kept his mouth closed as Sergeant Mackenzie looked on in the corner.

"Well recruit, I am impressed. You left a prestigious University, where you were the top of the class in the engineering department to enlist in the Corps. Why?" Major Sitwell asked him, a bemused look on his face.

"Well sir, I came to America five years ago to begin my University work, and this country has been my home. After the attacks on Manhattan and D.C., I felt a sense of duty to this country that has become my home." He replied, short and concise. _No need to ramble on._

"Very well recruit. Say's here you have memorized the information packet in its entirety, finishing all of your memory work perfectly in twenty minutes. You have the highest ratings on both the rifle and small arms range, and you excel at PT and technical work. I must say I am impressed by everything but your team work numbers. You're very much a lone wolf, aren't you?" the Major asked, and he was correct.

"Yes sir, I've been used to being ostracized since a young age, and learned I was most efficient on my own or with a team of my equals. And no offense sir, but none of those men are anywhere near being my equals." Fitz said, trying and failing to hide the hint of smugness in his voice. The Major laughed.

"Well Private Fitz, looks here like you'll be an excellent addition to the Corps. But I feel we are truly wasting your talents here. We need men of action on the frontlines. Men who don't need a whole battalion at their backs, rather just a small team. A team of the best. I'm offering for you to join MARSOC, son. The best of the best. You'd leave training now with Sergeant Mackenzie, and arrive for accelerated training so we can have you out in the War in less than a month. You'd be trained as a Recon sniper, to work with a multi-national team in the field to counter terrorism and take out threats. Does that sound good to you?" the Major asked, and Fitz felt like he had been punched in the stomach.

"Sir, yes Sir. I would love to Sir." Fitz stammered, surprised at the offer.

"Alright then, Private. Welcome to the Corps. Pack your bags, grab new chevrons from the Sergeant here on the way out." he said, closing his file, allowing Fitz time to stand at attention and salute him before returning it.

"On it, sir." He said, making his way to the Sergeant before exiting.

Sitwell called out to them. "Oh and Private, I do believe that lovely lady of yours deserves a response. Let her know you graduated two months early. You'll be reporting to Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. Tell her that's your new address." Sitwell said, the two men leaving.

The two split up, making their way to their barracks, Fitz wearing the hardware of a Private, and received awed looks from his fellow recruits in the building before he remembered, he's above them. He packed his bag up, and left the room, ready to go.

He made his way to the NCO barracks, and sat there writing a letter to Jemma. Her letter had been two pages, but he knew he would only get a page at most.

 _Dear Jemma,_

 _Things are so exciting here! I just got promoted out of Boot Camp to start Special Forces training. I love you and miss you so very much sweetheart. I hope the lab work is going well, and I know that by the time you're done with your degree, I'll have graduated from MARSOC. I should be able to attend your graduation. And I'll get to see you._

 _I have to leave you my forwarding address. It'll be at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. And I'll have a week before I ship off to the War to be with you dear._

 _Love,_

 _Fitz_

Fitz picked his head up, realizing that Sergeant Mackenzie had been standing over him, laughing heartily at the younger man's look of fear, before patting him on the shoulder.

"Oh Turbo, we're gonna have good times." he said, helping Fitz off the ground. They picked up their bags and made their way to the post office, and they dropped off his letter at the bases post office before climbing into the Sergeant's car and began their drive to the airport.

"Sergeant, which airport are we…" was as far as he got before he was cut off.

"Look Turbo, call me Mack. Only call me Sergeant when we're in dress uniform okay? It feels weird, man. So, let's keep it simple. We're buddies now, anyway. They got plans for us Turbo." he said. "And we're driving to Miramar. We'll fly from there, to Georgia, where we're picking up a pure ball of sunshine from the Army at Fort Benning, and an airman from Maxwell in Alabama before making it to Camp Jejune. There, we'll meet an SAS soldier, leant to us for our task force. This ain't gonna be regular MARSOC Turbo. We're being trained to be a five-man unit that needs no extraction. And you my friend, are going to be our sniper." Mack laughed, grasping Fitz's shoulder in an act of friendliness as Fitz laughed a little.

"Who are these guys?" Fitz asked, wondering who these men he was going to be bound for the rest of his possibly short life were going to be.

"Well, we got Specialist Grant Ward from the Army. I've met him before, he's a right ball of sunshine. And I can only say that with so much sarcasm because he's the meanest son of a bitch to go through the Army since Colonel Chester Phillips himself. Then we have Antoine Triplett, a good friend of mine from a joint exercise we did a few years ago. You'll like him. And then there's Lance Hunter. A brilliant SAS officer, who is a brilliant tactician when he isn't drinking. But you'll like him, he's a good guy." Mack finished, and they looked on into the setting sun over Miramar Air Field.

And it was looking at that sunset that Leopold Fitz realized how he was part of something much bigger than himself for the first time in his life.


	2. Met the Team

_Chapter Two: Meet the Team:_

 _Fort Benning, Georgia, United States:_

 _Leopold Fitz:_

* * *

They sat on the tarmac for a few minutes before exiting with their bags, the tall silhouettes of two men waiting for them as they exited the plane.

"Sergeant Mackenzie" came the vaguely North Easter/Southern Drawl of the slimmer man on the left, a cocky smile adorning his face as Mack and Fitz approached them. One was in battle fatigues like Fitz and Mack, the other was adorned in the dress uniform of an Army Brigadier General.

"Chief Ward, I see they promptly promoted you, again." Mack said, a chuckle as he embraced his comrade. "Grant, I'd like you and General Garrett to meet the Corps finest young mind, and deadliest shot, Private Leopold Fitz.

"Well Private, it's a pleasure to make you acquaintance" said Ward, a chuckle emerging from Garrett as the two shook hands.

"As much as I enjoy this comradery, you all have to report to Fort Maxwell, and Talbot is a tight ass. Best for you men to get there as soon as possible."

The three soldiers turned to Garrett, saluting as he dismissed them, disappearing into the distance as the three soldiers boarded the plane.

As they sat in the hull of their light transport, Fitz looked on as Ward and Mack played cards on the makeshift table that was a rocket pod case. Mack motioned the young soldier over, pulling up a smaller case for him to sit upon. The game on the board was war, and Fitz was quickly learning from the two men that it was a game of luck more than strategy.

"Chief Ward," Fitz began, before Ward cut him off.

"Fitz, you can call me Grant. Or Ward. Same rules as Mack, man. We're a unit now. Brothers."

"Alright, Ward. Well, I was just wondering if you guys could deal me in the next game?" Came Fitz's uncertain question, his Scottish accent trembling a little as both men laughed, ending their game to deal in Fitz.

"Look Turbo, you gotta realize that we're just here to do a job to everyone else. The brass, our friends, our family, they'll never understand. We're brothers here. You can rely on Ward with your life, and he'll rely upon you with his. My little brother told me about science and how it's a very individualistic pursuit. We're all part of a team, putting together pieces of a puzzle. We all rely on each other to get the job done. Welcome to the table of brotherhood, Fitz."

"Sounds good to me, Mack" Fitz said, drawing in unison with the others. Following several rounds of no one winning more than a game at a time, Ward came up with an idea.

"This is going to be too hard to keep track of after a while. We should set up a tally board." He said, getting up, pulling his knife and slicing the word _WAR_ onto the wall of the plane. "When we get our own bird, it'll be easier to keep track of. But for now, loser has to do laundry our first night at Lejeune.

"Oh you're on Ward." Came both Mack and Fitz at the same time. They all laughed, and resumed playing the game until they landed at Maxwell, which was for only another 30 minutes.

As the ramp lowered, they saw the bright smile of one Sergeant Antoine Triplet, dressed ready for combat, and he entered the plane to embrace Mack.

"Long time no see, Mack." He smiled, laughing as he dropped his bag and shook hands with Ward. Fitz was behind the two much larger men, but Trip still made his way over to him

"Names Trip, and from the dossier they gave, you must be Leo Fitz. Pleasure to meet you." Trip said, and Fitz smiled as he shook his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you Trip. Please, call me Fitz. Everyone does."

"Will do. So Mack, is it really who I think it is waiting for us from Britain?"

"It is, my friend. The one and only Lance Hunter." Mack said, laughing.

"No, not Hunter. I meant the big man. Our CO. He's supposed to be some Navy legend."

"Sitwell didn't tell us about our CO, just gave orders to report to Lejeune with you guys. Get Fitz up to Recon sniper skills, and ship out for SOCOM operations. Save the world, that type of thing."

"Ah so this is the young sharpshooter." Ward said, laughing. "Never thought they'd let someone so young enter into Recon this fast. You've gotta be one special kid, Fitz."

"Well, I almost have a doctorate in Mechanical engineering, but I left to enlist. It's not hard for me to hit a target. It just comes naturally I guess." Fitz said, shrugging.

They sat on the plane, playing war for another few hours until they landed in North Carolina. The four soldiers disembarked, bags over their shoulders (except for Fitz, whose shoulder was too small, so he carried it at his hips). They made their way inside the complex, only to be met at the end of the Hall by an intimidating Asian Woman in her 30's (maybe), wearing a full tactical insertion suit, ready for combat. No one recognized her, but she recognized them all.

"Soldiers, make your way to the Admirals quarters. Leave your bags here and they'll be handled. Dismissed" she said, turning around to return to wherever she came from.

The team made their way upstairs, single file, with Ward in the lead and Mack at the end.

When they entered the room, a man with brown hair was facing them from a desk, adorned in full dress uniform. His brown hair was receding, but he still looked relatively young, maybe mid 40's.

"Admiral Coulson?" came Grants voice, much smaller than it had been earlier.

"Ah, and there's my bastard of an ex-son-in-law."

* * *

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait up there. What do you mean, sir? Respectfully?" came Mack's voice, pushing Grant behind him as he took the center.

"The Chief and my daughter eloped a year ago, only for them to divorce when he couldn't remain there for her emotionally or physically. And he cheated on her." He said, his voice eerily calm.

"You know that's not what happened! She left me for the girl, the one she met at the college in Massachusetts!" Ward yelled, settling the room into an eerie quiet.

From the chair, out of view of the four soldiers, came a laugh that pierced the quietness of the room.

"I see what you mean about a stable crew, sir." Came the very heavy British accent of a man most of the team already knew.

"Well Hunter, you know everyone here but Private Fitz, care to introduce yourself?" Coulson asked, focusing on the man in the chair.

"No. Not until he proves his skills." He said. "And I want another beer."

You're dismissed Hunter." Coulson said, and Hunter meandered out the back exit. The rest of the team still there.

"Let's start from the top, shall we. My name is Admiral Phillip Coulson, and I will be your commanding officer from here on out. Once MARSOC evaluates Private Fitz's abilities, we will be moving to a base in an unspecified location. Should he pass, the 5 of you will make up the Operations team, while the woman you met earlier, Captain Melinda May, will pilot our Osprey. Two scientists will be joining our team as an outside consulting team. Our job is to track down the terrorists that attacked Manhattan and D.C. with the dirty bombs, and terminate their whole organization with extreme prejudice. Is that understood?" He said, the question more of a don't say anything' than an actual question of approval.

They all responded with varying degrees of "yes sir" before leaving the office.

Their bunks were in a different section of the complex, with Hunter already inside, asleep. The four men unpacked their duffels and settled into their spaces within the medium sized room.

* * *

For the next two weeks, this is where they lived. In the morning, Hunter took Fitz on a 5 mile hike and strength training regimen of PT, boxing, and hand to hand combat skills. After this, he would eat breakfast with Mack and they would go in the garage, where he would learn field medicine and how to assemble the different parts of their aircraft, zodiac, and other operational equipment. After a lunch with Ward, they would practice his sniper work, teaching him to be his own spotter and how to do the operational math (which Fitz could do in his head), leading to his results improving daily. Finally, nights were spent together, where they would all eat dinner before trip taught Fitz how to disappear in a crowd, or how to do surveillance work. After the two weeks, Coulson was confident in Fitz's abilities and decided to have them get ready for their leave.

"Admiral, thank you sir, it's been an honor. When are we able to go? I've been looking forward to returning to the University to see the woman I love. I'm surprised I haven't gotten a letter from her, but oh well." Fitz said, excited.

"You all can go when the new members of the team arrive. They'll be on the plane with May and I, making decisions about new equipment, testing for radiological hazards, and supplying us with operational intel to keep you guys alive. Ah, and they're here now, may I introduce..." Coulson couldn't finish before Ward spoke up.

"Skye?" he asked, bewildered.

And then the second woman came through the door, beautiful, long, flowing brown hair came down from either side of her face, and she wore a very warm smile, holding the hand of Skye. Until she looked at the soldiers.

"Jemma?" Fitz asked, quietly, with a heartbreaking uncertainty in his eyes.

"Well shit." Is all Jemma said.

* * *

 **Long time, no update. Sorry, College has been hectic. But I.m on a regular schedule now so hopefully more to come! Please rate, review, and let me know what you all think!**


End file.
